


Desenrascanco

by aformofmotion, momentinsubtext



Series: Beyond The Help Of Falling Stars [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Life on Mars (UK), Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 09:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2224083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aformofmotion/pseuds/aformofmotion, https://archiveofourown.org/users/momentinsubtext/pseuds/momentinsubtext
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of <i>The End of Time</i>, the Tardis crashes into the gaping hole in the middle of Cardiff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> desenrascanco - the improvisation of haphazard but completely sound solutions or plans at the last minute

Gwen sets another loose alien artefact into the box she's carrying. It's the first time she's set foot in the ruins of the Hub since the explosion, and she's quickly learning that the people who had combed the wreckage immediately after had done a piss poor job of it.  
  
" _Gwen_ ," Lois says into her ear.  
  
She taps the headset. "What've you got?"  
  
" _Something's pinged near your location. A crash of some sort and a weird energy signature. I think they're the same thing but I can't confirm. Sending you the coordinates now._ "  
  
"Ta. We'll check it out." She claps her hands and raises her voice. "All right boys and girls, we've got an active crash-site. That means be on your best behaviour-"  
  
"Johnson," Andy coughs nearby.  
  
"-because we want to make a good impression if they're friendly."  
  
"Johnson should be the only one visibly armed," Kathy says, appearing at her shoulder. "Her gun has a stun setting."  
  
"Agreed. Have you got that, Johnson?"  
  
"Stun setting, got it."  
  
"Don't get twitchy," Andy adds.  
  
She bristles. "I don't get _twitchy_."  
  
"You're not helping," Gwen says. "Voices down, no need for them to hear us coming."  
  
" _Kinky_ ," Lois says.  
  
"Also not helping."  
  
" _But did it work?_ "  
  
Johnson checks to be sure Andy is blushing. "Yes."  
  
" _Excellent_."  
  
"Excuse me," Kathy says. "Could you three behave like responsible adults for five minutes?"  
  
"I didn't even do anything," Andy protests.  
  
Gwen clears her throat. "This isn't voices down."  
  
"Sorry, Gwen."  
  
They reach the coordinates and the tipped over police box within the next five minutes. It's completely on its side with the doors opened toward them, smoke trickling out. They can hear movement and a steady stream of nonsensical chatter inside.  
  
"Stand down," Gwen says; Johnson holsters the blaster. She kneels by the door and calls in, "Doctor? Are you all right?"  
  
The rambling cuts off. "Who's asking?"  
  
"It's Gwen Cooper. We met at the Medusa Cascade. Planets in the sky?"  
  
"I remember you." He walks around the corner to the door, which is a disconcerting sight considering their relative gravities. "Jack's team."  
  
"Not for a while now."  
  
"I know. Ran into Jack a few hours back, cruising a satellite bar."  
  
She rolls her eyes. "Of course he was. Are you all right?"  
  
"I think so. Alive and in one piece, anyway. No obvious damage except to my beautiful ship. Poor baby, I really did a number on her. Shot her full of regeneration energy, she's high as a kite."  
  
Gwen blinks and pretends she hasn't heard that last bit. "What happened?"  
  
"I wasn't ready, but here I am," he says darkly. "The details are embarrassing. Pull me out." Not a request. He puts his arm through the threshold and his jacket twists oddly where the separate gravity wells meet. "Hurry up."  
  
"It wouldn't hurt you to say please," she suggests.  
  
"Oh, right. Manners. Still rude, then. Well, if I must. _Please_ pull me out."  
  
She peers at him suspiciously but seizes his elbow and hauls. It takes about three tries before they overcome the gravity differential. He brushes at his suit ineffectually, trying to clear it of dust and dirt.  
  
"Leave it, mate," Andy advises. "It doesn't fit you anyway."  
  
"I filled out in the shoulders a bit," he says defensively.  
  
"Just saying, the dirt doesn't matter."  
  
He humphs; Gwen takes the time to make introductions all around.  
  
"You've been busy," the Doctor observes.  
  
"You haven't," she shoots back.  
  
He blinks at her, shocked and wounded, then comprehension dawns in his eyes. "Oh. The 456."  
  
"Yeah, the 456." She glares a challenge at him.  
  
"Short version," he says quickly, forestalling the question. "The 456 are a fixed point in the universe. What happened then always happened, always has to have happened, and the mental breakdown that results from trying to tamper with a fixed point _isn't worth it_. I have been there and done that, and I'm sorry for whatever happened during the 456 incident but I wasn't willing to go through that again, and if you want me to be any more sympathetic than that then you need to wait to ask until it's been at least 24 hours since the last time I sent my planet to literal hell." He stops to take a breath and frowns. "Huh. That was way more words than I planned on saying."  
  
Gwen stares at him, but before she can say anything there's the distinct sound of open vortex, then silence.  
  
" _Ping_ ," Lois says into her ear.  
  
The syllable hasn't even faded before all of Torchwood's guns are trained on the intruders - who appear to be two prepubescent girls and an unconscious man who bears a striking resemblance to a certain Harold Saxon.  
  
" _More_ humans with guns?" Sister-of-Mine asks, sounding bored. "You need to learn some new tricks, Doctor."  
  
"Oh, they're not _mine_ ," the Doctor says, though he gives Gwen a disappointed look all the same.  
  
"Stand down," she says. "Not you, Johnson."  
  
Johnson nods while all the other guns disappear.  
  
"Ms Cooper-"  
  
"Doctor. Friends of yours?"  
  
"No. Well, maybe one of them, sort of. If he's alive and what I think's happened _has_ happened. I need to think. Because _you_ -" He points to the older girl. "-can't possibly have survived the Time War, and _you_ should still be stuck in the mirrors."  
  
"And yet here we are," says the Rani.  
  
Sister-of-Mine takes a deep breath. "He doesn't have it."  
  
The Rani looks at her. "What?"  
  
"He doesn't have it. We're too early."  
  
"Damn. The paradox isn't worth dealing with, re-set that thing." While Sister-of-Mine fiddles with the vortex manipulator, she looks the Doctor square in the eye. "Here's a freebie. The Master is alive somewhere in this pile of rubble. If you hurry you can save him, but you have to put him in a fobwatch because here he is." She gestures expansively at the prone man on the stretcher, but he doesn't see it because he's off and running before she's finished speaking.  
  
"Doctor!"  
  
"Let them go," he calls back. "Unless you want to unravel the fabric of the universe."  
  
"I've always kind of wanted to unravel the fabric of the universe," Johnson says speculatively.  
  
"No," Kathy says.  
  
"Kathy, keep an eye on these two until they go, then head back to the flat. Johnson, Andy, let's tip this thing upright and go after him. Make sure he doesn't make a mess out of our renovations, yeah?"


	2. Chapter 2

Once he's aware of the Master's survival, it's easy enough to find the faint traces of his mind and follow them into the wreckage like a trail of breadcrumbs. He finds the man slumped against a wall, barely upright and flashing to bone with every breath.  
  
"Master," he says, new voice catching in his new throat.  
  
The Master's eyes open as if he were just waiting for the prompt. His mouth curves into something like a smile. "Doctor. How long has it been?"  
  
"Oh, hours. Less than a day since Gallifrey." He wets his new lips. "Six hours with this body, give or take."  
  
"So new. The things I'd do to you if I were healthy."  
  
"You could be," he says, talking quickly as if that will cover up the blush. "You could- I'm within 15 hours, you could have some of my regeneration energy."  
  
"Temporary," he spits.  
  
"It would buy us some time. Time enough to find another solution."  
  
"Us, now, is it?" He sneers. "I don't need your damn charity."  
  
The Doctor looks him up and down. "I do hope you don't expect me to believe that," he says lightly. "And, also - no, wait. _Charity?_ You think this is some altruistic move on my part? Because it's really, absolutely not that at all. Completely selfish decision, this."  
  
"Is it?" He grins when the Doctor awkwardly grabs his shoulders. "I should refuse you."  
  
"Don't be ridiculous. How many times do I have to watch you die? This isn't how it should end, torn apart by your own body in the scrapheap of someone else's disaster. Think how that'll look in the history books."  
  
"I don't know, 'last act: fucking Rassilon over' sounds pretty good to me."  
  
"Liar." He tightens his grip at the next flash. "Stop it, just stop it. I can help you."  
  
" _Can_ you? And what do I get out of this help?"  
  
"Other than _not_ _death?_ "  
  
"Obviously."  
  
" _Please_ , you're better than this. Let me-"  
  
"As if I'd accept a gift from you."  
  
"Then _take_ it. Take it, what does it even matter?"  
  
"It matters," he says. He yanks the Doctor forward by the collar, ignoring the way his hands shake ( _shake_ because he's dying, can't do anything else), and the Doctor doesn't resist. "You're rubbish at regeneration."  
  
He shifts, forward and up, to catch this new Doctor's mouth with his own, gentle enough to surprise even himself. He sips regeneration energy from the Doctor's lips and feels himself growing steadier. Bones and flesh solidify in a way he hasn't felt since stepping out of the fire. The fatigue, the weakness he's been living with washes away and he can finally properly appreciate the press of the Doctor's new body against him. He releases the grip he has on the Doctor's collar and moves to deepen the kiss.  
  
"Greedy," the Doctor mumbles distractedly.  
  
He huffs a laugh against the Doctor's lips and doesn't dignify that with an answer, slips a hand up into his hair and his tongue into his mouth. The Doctor's mind hums at the edge of his consciousness, loud as the drums ever were, and he counts that as a victory.  
  
He waits until he has the Doctor whimpering and shuddering against him to shove him away; it's harder than he expects. "I think that's enough, don't you?"  
  
The Doctor stumbles back and sways on his feet, his eyes dark and wild. It takes him a moment to catch up, and then his mouth snaps shut and he stands up straighter. "You tell me. How do you feel?"  
  
" _Alive_." He pushes himself away from the wall, doesn't need it's support anymore. "That's certainly an improvement."  
  
"Good. Good. That's... good."  
  
He makes a face and spins. "How do I look? Ignore the hair, obviously, and the stubble is going to _have_ to go, but I think it can be salvaged. Get off this pathetic rock and - oh, _what?_ " he snaps. "You don't really expect me to _thank_ you, do you?"  
  
"I'm not _stupid_."  
  
"No, never that. So you're thinking, what next? Can't leave me here on your precious rock, who knows what I'd get up to. Well don't worry, I don't want to stay. I've had enough of humans, thank you very much. I'm feeling generous, I might even take you up on that 'travelling the universe' thing."  
  
The Doctor's face shifts, goes soft and hurt all at once. "Master-"  
  
" _What did you do?_ "  
  
He flinches. "It isn't what you think. I've seen you, after. Only reason I knew you'd survived. _Human._ "  
  
He takes a moment to parse that. "No. No, no, no. You're not putting me in one of those things again."  
  
"I don't have a choice. I've _seen_ you. The paradox-"  
  
"Don't talk to _me_ about paradoxes. The Reapers can _have_ this world for all I care."  
  
"You don't mean that."  
  
"The hell I don't. I won't be trapped in another tiny human body, I won't."  
  
"Did you think you have a say in this? Because you don't."  
  
"I refuse."  
  
"Not this time."  
  
"I saved your life!"  
  
"Oh, don't exaggerate. You threw a temper tantrum. Rassilon took your shiny new toy away, so you turned the whole board over. No, wait, I've mixed that metaphor. The point is, the fact that it saved my life is completely irrelevant."  
  
"No, it _isn't_." He punches the Doctor square in the jaw and shoves him into the wall before he has a chance to recover, shoves a thigh roughly between his legs and kisses him hard enough to bruise. It isn't fighting fair and he knows it, more than knows it, grins viciously against the Doctor's mouth when he hears the idea echo in the Doctor's mind.  
  
He sees movement out the corner of his eye and rolls his hips just to hear the noise the Doctor makes. A throat clears nearby.  
  
He tears his mouth away and snarls at the intrusion. "Can't you see we're _busy?_ "  
  
"Ms Cooper," the Doctor says, half coherent. "This... isn't... it's not what it looks like."  
  
Gwen, who works for Torchwood, who worked for _Jack_ , just rolls her eyes. "Johnson. Andy." The two move to secure the Master; Andy is bright red and Johnson is grinning like a madwoman. "Doctor."  
  
His attention snaps back to her. "Yes?"  
  
"We'll take him topside. Take a minute to compose yourself before you join us."  
  
He nods gratefully and lets his head thump back against the wall.


	3. Chapter 3

"No guns," he says as soon as he catches up with them.  
  
Johnson's aim doesn't waver. "It's on stun."  
  
" _No. Guns._ " Gwen nods and Johnson lowers the gun. "Thank you. If you got that from Jack I hope you sterilized it before use."  
  
To her credit, Johnson's face doesn't give anything away.  
  
He moves past them to unlock the Tardis doors. "Come along then, watch your step. The chameleon arch is over that way." He waves his hand vaguely. "I'll be with you in a minute." He goes straight to the central console, murmuring soothing words at it, and begins flipping switches and pushing buttons.  
  
"I saw it on a screen, but I'm not sure I believed it until now," Gwen says, looking around.  
  
"How does it all fit in here?" Andy wonders.  
  
"Magic."  
  
"Don't be an ass," the Doctor says without looking up. "It's dimensionally transcendental. Got an extra dimension stuck on, you could say. There we go, all set."  
  
"You'll regret this," the Master says. "When I wake up I'll _destroy_ you."  
  
"Will you? That's unfortunate." He spins a final dial and bounds over. "Ready?"  
  
"Fuck you."  
  
"Not with that attitude." He pulls the cap of the chameleon arch down and settles it over the Master's head. "It won't be so bad. You'll see."  
  
The Master glares at him.  
  
"For what it's worth, I _am_ sorry about this. Truly. _Sorry_." He turns away, frowning; behind him the machine whirs to life, begins to rewrite the Master's DNA. "That didn't feel as good as I remember. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Nope. Nada. That's _strange_."  
  
"Probably not an improvement," Gwen says mildly.  
  
"Probably not," he agrees. He tosses her a pair of rubber gloves. "Don't worry, I have a plan. I need a DNA sample from him when that's finished, non-contaminated. Hair should do."  
  
"And what will you be doing?"  
  
"Reprogramming this thing for youth instead of age." He twirls the Master's laser screwdriver through his fingers. "It's delicate, so don't pester me."  
  
"D'you need us anymore, Gwen?" Johnson asks quietly.  
  
She shakes her head. "I think I can handle it from here. Go on back."  
  
"Are you sure?" Andy asks. "How long will you be?"  
  
"Yes, and I don't know. Tell Rhys I'll call if it's going to be late."  
  
Johnson nods affirmation and the two of them exit quietly.  
  
Gwen watches the Master grit his teeth and refuse to give an inch, to even acknowledge that the machine is hurting him. Eventually the cap lifts and he sways for a second before toppling gracelessly sideways. She intercepts him and lowers him gently to the floor. "Doctor-"  
  
"Yes, he's supposed to be unconscious. It's normal. You can untie him after you get that DNA sample. He's harmless now. Human."  
  
She complies quietly and efficiently, resisting the urge to show him how _harmless_ humans are. By the time he finishes with his jiggery-pokery she's shifted them into a more comfortable position, the human Master's head resting on her leg like a pillow while she smooths the hair at his temples.  
  
"Look at you, cosying up to the enemy."  
  
"But he's not, anymore, is he? That's how your machine works. Sucked out all the evil alien super-villain stuff and stuck in something else." She shrugs at his curious glance and passes over the DNA sample. "I talked to Martha and read Verity Newman's _A Journal of Impossible Things_. Informative stuff."  
  
The Doctor gives her a long appraising look, lips pursed. "Who did you vote for in 2008?"  
  
"Aubrey Fairchild."  
  
"Gwen Cooper," he says. "You're a marvel."  
  
"And you're an ass. Have you always been so...?"  
  
"Probably." He twists something on the laser screwdriver and beams. "You're going to want to get some distance now."  
  
She scoots away and gets to her feet. "You haven't told me what you're planning. What are you going to do?"  
  
"Watch." He points the screwdriver and switches it on. A low whine fills the air and the Master seems to implode on himself. His body twitches and convulses, shrinking and vanishing into the folds of clothing that was correctly sized just minutes before. Nothing of him is left visible by the time the Doctor switches it off. He sets the screwdriver on the edge of the console and moves to carefully extract an infant from the heap of clothing. "Voila."  
  
Gwen stares; the Doctor is holding the baby away from his body and looking at it like he doesn't know what he's meant to do with it now.  
  
"You call this a _plan?_ " she demands.  
  
"What's wrong with it?"  
  
"Oh, tell me you're kidding." She scoops a t-shirt off the floor and takes the baby, wrapping him up as well as she can. "For one thing, have you got any clothes in his size? Formula? _Nappies?_ "  
  
"Ah." He frowns. "I think there's a nursery in here somewhere. Haven't seen it in a while, but I don't think I've ejected it."  
  
She hums skeptically. "That's nice. You aren't even remotely qualified to take care of an infant, are you?"  
  
"Oi!" He bristles. "I was a dad once."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Was that in the last century?"  
  
"Well, no, but it's like riding a bike, yeah?"  
  
She rolls her eyes. "What are you going to do with him?"  
  
"I know a couple. Well, sort of know them. Human. They'll take him in. Probably."  
  
"Sort of? _Probably?_ "  
  
"I haven't actually talked to them yet. They live in the seventies."  
  
"Of course they do." Gwen is contemplating a migraine. "All right, first things first, clothes and nappies. He's not that much bigger than Kieve was, we can swing by my place and-"  
  
The baby cuts in with a shriek and keeps on screaming.  
  
The Doctor looks at him in horror. "What's that? Why's it making that noise? _How_ is it making that noise, it's so _tiny_."  
  
Gwen does a quick check. " _He_ 's not wet. Probably just hungry." She bounced him gently. "Is that it sweetheart, are you hungry? Yeah? Auntie Gwen can fix that, yes she can. And you can avert your eyes, mister," she adds in a completely different tone.  
  
"What? Oh. Right, yeah." He turns to face the opposite wall. "I figure, growing up in a normal family, proper human experience, that'll help. I'll thwart whatever evil plan the Rani and her friend have cooked up, and when he wakes up he'll be better."  
  
"So you and he were... together then." He half turns in surprise. "Eyes front, Doctor!"  
  
"Sorry. What makes you say that?"  
  
"Besides your little display in the ruins?"  
  
"He doesn't fight fair," he protests.  
  
Gwen snorts. "What a surprise. But really, what's the story?"  
  
"Oh, it spans centuries."  
  
"Thrill me."  
  
"Short answer - yes, and it ended badly."  
  
"Long answer?"  
  
"Is none of your business. How much longer do I have to stand like this?"  
  
"Until he's finished." The Doctor fidgets. "I suppose you'll be expecting me to care for him until you talk your friends around?"  
  
"Well if you're volunteering..."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Didn't think so. I was hoping to convince you to come with me. Just to the seventies, drop him off and then back home. It'd only be a day or two. A week tops."  
  
"We have records of your piloting."  
  
The Doctor pointedly does _not_ blush. "Brand new body. Blank slate."  
  
"And I'm not sure I like you very much."  
  
"Well that makes two of us." He winces. "Ooh, that came out sounding worse than I meant it to. I don't even know me yet. Neither do you. You can't judge me by my first few hours."  
  
"I'll think about it. You can turn around now, I'm decent."  
  
He spins on his heel and begins dancing around the centre console. "All righty then, Casa Cooper-Williams, here we come. Hold on to that baby."


	4. Chapter 4

After Gwen finishes berating him for reckless driving and endangering the welfare of the child, the Doctor pouts his way past her and throws open the doors.  
  
And blinks down the barrels of three different guns.  
  
"Um."  
  
Gwen peers around him. "This isn't my house. Stand down, guys."  
  
Johnson, Lois, and Kathy lower their weapons.  
  
"What is it with you people and guns?"  
  
"We fight aliens," Lois says. "Usually evil ones. And you just appeared inside our base."  
  
"Accidentally!"  
  
"A week tops," Gwen says flatly, eyebrow raised; the Doctor refuses to meet her eyes. She pushes past him. "Lois, can you get Rhys on the line? I need him to bring some things from home."  
  
Lois reaches for the phone, then pauses, eyes on the baby.  
  
"Where did _that_ come from?" Johnson asks.  
  
" _He_ used to be the Doctor's boyfriend."  
  
There's silence for a beat.  
  
"I think we're all just fine not knowing anything more than that," Andy says nervously.  
  
Johnson opens her mouth.  
  
"No," Kathy says.  
  
Johnson's mouth snaps shut sullenly.  
  
"I've got Rhys on the line," Lois says.  
  
Gwen takes the phone from her. "Hello, love. ... I'm going to need you to pack some of Kieve's old clothes and things and bring them to work. ... Think very carefully about whether you really want an answer to that question." She goes on to list an impressive amount of childcare kit. "That should be everything. ... As soon as you can. ... Oh, ta. I love you, too."  
  
Shortly after, Rhys arrives with a bag on one arm and an eight-month-old on the other. He drops the bag on the floor. "There are three more in the boot."  
  
Gwen kisses him on the cheek and Kieve on the forehead. "Hi, baby, you would not believe the day mummy is having."  
  
"This is what I get for taking a day off," Rhys says to no one in particular. "Will someone please tell me what's going on?"  
  
"Lose the kid and we'll talk," Johnson says.  
  
"Johnson," Kathy says while Rhys sets Kieve in the playpen. "Just the truth, please. No embellishment."  
  
"You take all the fun out of things." She leads him into the kitchenette.  
  
"Kathy can you-" Kathy takes the baby out of her arms before she even finishes asking. "Ta. Doctor, what are the names of your friends in the seventies?"  
  
"Tyler. Victor and Ruth Tyler."  
  
"Lois, look them up. I want to know if they ever had children. Photos, if there are any, please."  
  
"On it."  
  
"Andy, with me. Doctor, you too, we're stocking your machine. Kathy, when Rhys and Johnson get back in here find them something to do."  
  
The Doctor watches them move around her, Torchwood responding swift and efficient, and quietly follows her down the stairs and out to the car. By the time they get back up to the flat with the bags, Kathy has the baby diapered and dressed and cooing happily in her lap.  
  
Lois glances up to be sure she's listening. "Victor and Ruth Tyler, Manchester residents. One son, Sam, born in 1969. Here's the interesting bit, Sam Tyler was hit by a car in 2006, in a coma for a year, had a brain tumour removed, and then jumped off the roof of the London police building, but no body was ever recovered. Your doing?"  
  
"Probably," the Doctor agrees. "Dunno yet, hasn't happened."  
  
"Photographs." Lois passes the laptop over.  
  
Gwen tabs through them quickly, the Doctor looking over her shoulder. "Look familiar?"  
  
He reaches over to ghost his fingertips against the image.  
  
She bats his hand away. "Didn't anyone ever teach you 'look but don't touch'? You'll smudge up the screen." She passes the laptop back to Lois. "So that's settled then. Whatever you're going to say to them, it works."  
  
"Do you know how dangerous what you've just done is?"  
  
"I didn't see you rushing to stop me." She kneels next to Kathy and shakes the baby's tiny hand; he latches on to her finger. "Hello there, Sam Tyler. It's very nice to meet you."  
  
Rhys sighs. "You're going with him, aren't you?"  
  
"He asked me to," she says. "But I wasn't going to make a decision without talking to you first."  
  
The rest of Torchwood slows to a stop, watching them. Even the Doctor seems to hold his breath.  
  
"Let's talk, then. I think you should go."  
  
"I- wait, what?"  
  
"I think you should go. You've been wanting a vacation and here's the next closest thing. And, to be honest, I'm not sure I trust this guy to take care of an infant."  
  
"Why does everyone say that? I've raised plenty of children."  
  
"What colour are your eyes?" Gwen challenges.  
  
He gapes at her for a second. "That isn't fair."  
  
" _That_ isn't comforting." She turns her attention back to Rhys. "Are you sure?"  
  
"No, but you should go anyway. Kieve and I can manage on our own for a few days. Some father-son bonding time will do us good."  
  
"A few days," she repeats. "Have you got that, Doctor? There and back."  
  
"Absolutely."  
  
"I'll call every day. Twice. Three times."  
  
"Don't strain yourself."  
  
She grins. "Andy, Lois, pack this stuff into the Doctor's time machine. Doctor, find that nursery, we're not going anywhere until you do. _You_ come with me." She grabs Rhys by the hand and tugs him out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Gwen and Rhys return, Kathy has Sam changed into a blue jumper and baby jeans, and the Doctor is sitting on the floor holding him under what appears to be close supervision.  
  
"Gwen, you have the key to the luggage," Lois says.  
  
She pops the key-ring off her belt and tosses it. "Duplicate it while I'm gone. No sense having just the one in an emergency. Some of the others, too. I'll trust your judgement on which."  
  
"That's a lot of keys," the Doctor says.  
  
"Two flats, three rooms in each, four closets, two storage centres—and that's not mentioning the filing system or lock boxes. Weapons, classified data, and alien artefacts do not belong behind unlocked doors, and we've got an abundance of all three," Kathy says. She looks at Gwen. "We have to talk logistics before you go."  
  
"Like I was going to leave you without orders." She grins. "Johnson and Andy would burn the place down before I got back."  
  
"Would not," Andy mutters; Johnson just looks _smug_.  
  
"You're in charge, of course." She removes the few items Jack had left from her person and hands them over to Kathy. "Access codes are on that," she says quietly, tapping the psychic paper. "So be careful handling it until you memorize them. We should be ready to start reconstruction on the Hub within the week, will you be able to manage?"  
  
"It's not like you've been the driving force thus far."  
  
"Fair enough. Call me if anything urgent pings or we need to, heaven forbid, release more funds. Someone get Martha and Mickey on the phone, this isn't a surprise we want to spring on them next time they come in."  
  
"I'll do it," Andy volunteers, and adjourns to the next room.  
  
"You should be prepared for the possibility that it will be more than the promised week before we get back."  
  
"I've read the reports," Kathy says, nodding.  
  
"Hey!" the Doctor protests loudly, and Sam starts to cry. He stares then shoves him at Gwen.  
  
"Oh for- come here, lovey. You can't shout when you're holding a baby, Doctor. They don't like loud noises."  
  
"I knew that," he mutters.  
  
She rolls her eyes. "Where was I?"  
  
"You were going to tell me what to do if you don't get back on schedule," Kathy prompts. "I imagine it's something like, 'carry on as usual and don't panic'."  
  
"That's a good guess. Rely on Martha and Mickey if you need on the spot advice, they've got more experience than the rest of you put together."  
  
Kathy nods. "The thing in Barry. Do you want us to wait until you get back to deal with it?"  
  
"Do you think you can handle it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then don't wait." She passes the baby back to the Doctor. "Johnson, I don't want to get a phone call about you. _Try_ not to cause too much havoc."  
  
"You got it, boss lady. Minimal havoc."  
  
"Thank you. I trust you can handle everything else without too much difficulty."  
  
"No foreseeable problems," Kathy says. "But it's never the foreseeable ones that end up as problems."  
  
"Good luck." She scoops Kieve up out of the playpen and bounces him on her hip, murmuring all sorts of baby talk nonsense along with proper sentences like "be good for daddy" and "mummy's going to miss you, yes she is".  
  
Lois returns, pulling Gwen's big red suitcase. "Sorry, I got waylaid by Mr. Ategess on the way back. Did you know his daughter is a lesbian?"  
  
"No, she isn't," Johnson says. "She just tells him that because it's less scandalous than the things she gets up to with Enrico and Sanjay. She's sweet about it, though."  
  
Gwen passes Kieve to Rhys as soon as she sees the Doctor stand up, and kisses both of them.  
  
"Be safe," Rhys says when she pulls away.  
  
"You, too." She takes her luggage from Lois and Sam from the Doctor. "Let's get this over with."

The Tardis nursery is larger than it has any right to be, and while it doesn't contain an infant wardrobe, it does at least contain nappies and wipes. Which is better than Gwen was expecting, to be honest. It also contains three cribs—one with Gallifreyan lettering on the side—five changing tables, two rockers, three walkers, a large playpen, and a veritable mountain of stuffed animals. There's a closet that contains nothing but fold-out trolleys.  
  
"And the best part," the Doctor says, motioning to what appears to be a light switch. "Go on, give it a try."  
  
Gwen warily flips the switch and a section of the wall folds away to reveal an inset car seat. "It's secure?"  
  
"Oh, yes. Absolutely. 100%. Well, 98%, but that's the best you can expect in any given situation, really." He rocks back on his heels and looks at her expectantly. "What do you think?"  
  
She nods in approval.  
  
"Good. Strap him in, I'll show you where to stow your things and we'll get underway."


End file.
